


The Guilt of Survival is But a Gift of Second Chance

by Lunarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Betrayal, Bruises, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Revenge, Season/Series 08, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Lovers find themselves entangled in a complicated web of strife. Some must learn to bury their hurtful past, some realize to never let go, and some find new love during the darkest hour.





	The Guilt of Survival is But a Gift of Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for H/C Bingo's amnesty round for February, a postage stamp! These are always fun! My prompts were: survivor guilt, betrayal, bruises, and haunted. The prompts lined up real well with "The Grudge" so I thought I'd play around with that here. <3
> 
>  
> 
> Most of the lines between Acxa and Zethrid were taken from the episode. <3

All around the ship heard her anguished cries, her claws searing through the metal walls against her subordinates’ advice. They could only watch, just having gotten the hole on the ship sealed, as the pirate captain rummaged madly through the debris, picking up scrap after bloody scrap and screaming for revenge at the top of her lungs. 

Fentress kept as far from the wounded captain’s path, not even daring to glance up at the burned left side of Zethrid’s face. Not that it seemed to register in Zethrid’s head that she too had been injured in the blast. Not that physical pain ever mattered to the Galra. Victory or death was the way, and yet even the Galra had a weakness. 

Falling to her knees, her hands full of remains of her once beloved, Zethrid pulled close to her the body laying on the ground. She gathered the pieces together as if that alone would bring back the co-captain of the ship, yet Ezor lay unmoving in her arms; blood seeped underneath them and on Zethrid’s hands. 

Zethrid’s voice drew into a strange softness, as if begging her lover to open her eyes; but the longer this went on and the red-scaled Galra remained still, a wail siren’ed through the ship, screaming for a certain Keith’s head, and for Acxa who had betrayed them both to be crushed under her boots. 

Heart-shattered and grief-stricken, Zethrid declared she will never rest until both have suffered the same agony for taking away Ezor from her.

*

“Wake up, lazy-bee.”

Curtis groaned, squeezing his eyes shut from the burst of morning sunlight that assaulted the quiet morning. “Ten more minutes!” 

“You said that three times already,” Adam said, a little less affectionately than a minute ago. “You’re needed at the station. I have to be on standby in case we’re called to battle. I can’t rouse you from the cockpit.” 

Curtis rolled over, getting a good look at Adam. Why did he agree to marry him again? The guy could be good at pampering, not to mention was the better chef between them, but he could also be so damn commanding. Guess that came with being in the military. 

“Yeah. Be there in a moment.” 

“You’re getting there _now_ ,” Adam insisted. “Really, Curtis. You have any idea what it took for me to get pardon on you for not encrypting those messages out of Earth? Your slack could get all of us killed one day!” 

_Sooo overdramatic_ , Curtis groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. He lazily accepted the quick peck on the lips before Adam rushed out. 

Later, as he watched Adam’s feed cut dead before them on the screen, his entire body froze into pure dread. His mind barely registered a word as the alien warlord’s face appeared on the screen, declaring war and capture of their planet. None of it matter; his own entire universe had just been destroyed. 

His hands balled into fists over his controls, the wedding ring still bright and new; they had only been married for two nights. Two nights, and his husband, his Adam, was taken—

Taken because of _him_. He had been the one to send the messages out of Earth for months on end, never caring to stop and encrypt them. Because he was lazy, as Adam always said. 

Adam had been right. Stupid and lazy. His own husband had killed him.

*

_“Red syntian nitrate…”_

_A commotion, an object thrown in the air, a flash of red and blue, and violet eyes going wide as they searched for her in the fast-consuming firestorm._

_“Zethr—!”_

_“Ezor!”_

Zethrid jolted up from her bed, panting, the explosion still vividly bright in her nightmare. For a moment Zethrid thought she saw her again: looming over her, eyes misting, eyebrows knitted. Her small, pouty lips moved, forming words that seemed to echo in the room. 

_Avenge me._

A clawed hand traced down the burn of her face. The damaged ship fleet groaned in its slow travel through space, and shrouded in the dark Zethrid replied back to Ezor. “I will.”

In the months following, as they took over fleet after fleet, she gathered intel from the ships’ main libraries. The paladin “with the flippity hair”, as Ezor had called him, had not been Acxa’s object of affection, nor vice versa. One particular fleet contained documents of an “Operation Kuron,” triggering memories of a recent past. Poring through the witch’s notes, documentations on the Black Paladin’s memories and what he most held dear, her lips twitched into a grim humorless smile. 

If she ever crossed paths with the witch again, she must thank her.

*

“Get your feet off my controls!” Curtis almost hurled at the sight. After that rousing speech by the Atlas leader, the last thing he had expected was entering the bridge to find one of the aliens sitting in his spot.

She—he _guessed_ the alien was a she—studied him with a smirk that only made him want to bang his head against the wall and hand in his resignation promptly. No way he was going to work with a…Unilu, he thought they were called. Whatever. They’re all aliens. He was only here for Adam. The guilt of having been the reason why Adam died, the reason why the Galra invaded all of Earth and killed countless humans and destroyed countless more cities—he supposed he owed it to everyone. 

And there was an alien sitting at his station with her feet up on _his_ controls. 

“Is that any way to speak to your senior officer?” she replied in a drawl, full of confidence that only served to tick him off further. 

“Senior officer? Where’s Katrina?” 

“Pregnancy test turned positive. She won’t be making the trip. Lucky you have me. Fifty deca-phoebs of flight and battle experience. Now, where’s your manners, subordinate?” 

_Manners?_ Fancy this alien talking like that with her crusty, green feet over his keyboard. As if that was bad enough, the creature had four arms: two resting crossed over her chest, one scratching out dandruff all over his seat and the other wiping boogers—he hoped that was just alien boogers—on the side of his seat. He was _this_ close to raging at Veronica over this—he needed another co-navigations tech, preferably a human. 

Before he could say anything, the Unilu leaned towards him, grinning. 

“I know everything that happened before my ship arrived on your planet,” she said. “Be glad they’ve appointed Geglex as your senior.” 

“What…do you mean?” 

Geglex chuckled. “You’re not getting the entire fleet killed the same way you killed your mate.” 

Her knowing smirk deserved a backhand, but she had a point, as much as he detested to admit. He still hadn’t learned to encrypt. The memory of what had happened had hurt still, and he had been filled with too much shame to resume being the communications officer. It had been acting as the navigations specialist since that day. 

“So you’re going to teach me how to encrypt?” he asked. 

“It’s an offer I can make you…for a small bargain.”

*

“Keith.” Shiro called him softly, but it was enough to make him stop. He watched as Keith turned to face him, his helmet still under his arm.

“Shiro?” His eyebrows shot up with little worry as they always did if he sensed Shiro was distressed. Shiro had to chuckle as he approached him. 

“Sorry, it’s just…I’m worried about you going out there,” he said. “Before we left, I hadn’t realized just how big the mission will be. There’s so many waiting to be liberated, and I’m…I’m just worried of what you might find out there. If you happen to run into one of Honerva’s Robeasts—”

“Shiro, we’ll be fine,” Keith said, reaching for his hand. “I told you.” The smile he gave him, full of reassurance, glowed under the dim lighting of the hall. Shiro was tempted to pull him in, to not ever let go, against better judgement. 

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” Shiro said, not voicing the nagging feeling in the back of his head. He gripped Keith’s hand, hoping this wouldn’t be the final time. 

“Nothing will,” Keith said. “In case we run into trouble, we’ll send an S.O.S.”

“I suppose I do owe you one.” Shiro said in an attempt to lighten the mood, mainly his own. They shared a smile as Keith leaned forward. 

“Remember the morning you woke up, made new again? And when you woke up in the healing pod?”

Shiro’s shoulders untensed with his chuckled. “Yeah, you greeted me with a—”

Keith’s lips brushed with his, a pleasant surprise, and Shiro’s arms wrapped tightly around Keith. 

“Ah! You’re squeezing my liver!” Keith laughed against his chest. “When we’re back, we should all do something—you and me, Allura and Lance, Hunk and Pidge. Like old times.” 

Shiro smiled fondly. “I’d like that.” 

By the time Keith left, the nagging feeling still remained. Shiro watched the lions take off as his stomach coiled uneasily. It wasn’t Allura or Lance or Hunk or Pidge the tiny alarm set off the most—somehow, he felt more sure about them returning to the Atlas alive. 

It was Keith. He wasn’t going to see Keith again.

*

Veronica watched the odd couple in the cafeteria, “couple” being a very loose term. Acxa had provided her all there was to know about the Unilu that the Garrison hadn’t covered, though it wasn’t like Veronica hadn’t previous encounters with them, haggling at the mall or the grocers. Curtis was falling for Geglex’s schemes. If there was a lesson to be have, she’d first require an item, often a ration from his tray. Curtis always complied; even if he was complaining and grumbling, he’d comply.

“He should have paid attention when Instructors Montgomery and Dos Santos were briefing us on all the aliens,” Veronica told Acxa, who sat next to her, “but he’s known to sleep through class. Don’t think the instructors even knew his name.”

Acxa gave a little, “Hmm” and shoved more food into her mouth. To Veronica’s content, the woman was slowly getting used to sitting by her, although trying to get close to her as a friend was an ever-slow work in progress. Even a smile could gain Veronica a scrutinizing look from the other, as if Acxa was scanning every bit of her, spotting areas of threat, a weapon which could be used against her. The assumption hurt, but Veronica had to remind herself, time and time again, that there was a reason for the walls. A reason that was in no way a personal attack on her. 

“Are we still receiving messages from the paladins?” Acxa asked. 

“We are,” Veronica said, “although it doesn’t seem like Shiro’s pleased about something.” 

At that, Acxa’s eyes widened. “In what way?” 

Veronica shrugged. “Not sure. He didn’t seem pleased with Keith’s reports, like something was off.”

“Was it?” 

“I don’t know. He sounded fine to me, but Shiro knows him better than I do.” 

Acxa nodded but said nothing more, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration the remainder of the meal. 

When they got back to the bridge, it was to find Shiro alone. He was replaying a few of Keith’s message.

“I…still don’t like this,” he said under his breath. The way he looked, hunched over, eyebrows knitted. He pressed a button on his dashboard. “Keith, any updates on your ETA?” 

Always the same question. 

“Proceeding as planned.” 

Shiro’s lips thinned. Too cold. 

Even Veronica knew that when it came to Shiro, Keith always spoke warmly. It was hard to miss if one paid attention. Lance had rambled most of it to her already, his tear-filled eyes nearly popping from his skull by the end as he recounted how Keith had soared across the universe to bring Shiro back from the dead. But if it weren’t for all that, Veronica had glimpsed the two men in a private moment in the halls once—she had retreated her steps immediately out of respect.

But their bond was almost legendarily known among the crew; even Acxa must have known from how she studied Shiro then turned back to her. Veronica frowned and settled into her station. She flipped on the comms. “Everything okay out there, Keith? Do you need help from the Atlas?” 

“No assistance required, thank you. Lance will figure it out.” 

Veronica scoffed. _Lance?_ “Right, Lance, the navigation genius.” 

“Affirmative.” 

Veronica and Acxa gave one another looks; this was too cold and formal, even for Keith. Over Acxa’s shoulder Veronica could see Shiro’s worry only grow worse. Had the man even eaten anything? 

“Iverson,” Veronica said, “how long have they been delayed?” 

“They should have arrived when we did,” Iverson reported, studying the reports on his screen; sweat trickled down the side of his head. 

“Something doesn’t seem right,” Acxa mused behind Veronica. 

“Subordinate!” Geglex spoke behind them. “You remember our lessons, I hope! What do you notice about the frequency?” 

“Uh—” Everyone drew silent as they watched Curtis shuffle through the messages. Shiro in particular watched him like a hawk, looking he was ready to throttle him if he lost Keith for his incompetence; it was only by some unfortunate circumstance that the indirect reason for Adam’s death slipped out, and while Veronica had always remembered Shiro as patient, he seemed really hesitant on giving Curtis a second chance. “I’m picking something up.” 

“And what is it?” Geglex asked. 

“I—I don’t recognize it.” 

“Because it was encrypted, right?” 

“Yes, but—”

“But what?” 

“There’s something else—two levels of encryption? Wait…Oh…”

“You get it now. We’ve got ourselves a decoy.” 

Everyone held their breath as the two techs typed away rapidly at their stations, the human sweating and the alien with an almost mad glint to her uninjured eye as if she was solving a puzzle for a prize. 

“There!” Geglex finally announced triumphantly. 

Multiple messages flooded across their viewscreen: all Keith’s, the other paladins, begging for help, they had landed on some planet, a trap—a trap. 

An anguished cry brought Veronica’s hair on end. 

_“Keith!”_

Veronica had never heard Shiro sound so wounded before. It silenced the bridge instantly. All eyes turned on him, on how Shiro seemed suddenly lost, a frightened child, hand white-knuckled gripping the rails of his station, before he suddenly bolted out of the room. Immediately Iverson took command, calling for backup even as his voice shook. 

Geglex sighed and leaned back. 

“What colors do humans wear for mourning?” she asked. 

“Geglex!” Veronica gasped. 

She shrugged. “Just being realistic.”

*

“No…”

Acxa had to back away from the interrogation of the Olkari. Shiro’s own emotional outburst over Keith wasn’t helping, and Acxa…it was ultimately her own damn fault. She and Keith had both rushed to use the red synthian nitrate, not stopping to think of the full repercussions. Emotions were running high, she was getting more enraged as she was being thrown about by those she used to consider allies, and the only thing that mattered was escape. 

And it resulted in Ezor’s death. 

“No, no…” 

Reaching her bunk, she sucked in a deep breath and covered her face in her hands. Her kind wasn’t one to get emotional, neither her Galra nor her Meltran side. But Narti had been killed right before her eyes, and she only became affected after Ezor had gotten through to her softer side. And then Lotor, first by betraying them and the jettisoning them into space, and now Ezor too…

“Hey, Acxa? Is everything okay?” 

Acxa quickly rubbed the tears away and looked up at Veronica. She stood right in the doorway of her bunk. 

“Yeah,” she answered. She _would_ be “okay” after some time. Emotional pain took time to heal, just as physical pain. 

Veronica gave her a look that Acxa came to recognize as incredulous. The human was able to detect lies without much skill. 

“The captain that Orvir mentioned…she was another one who followed Lotor,” Acxa said.

“A friend,” Veronica said. 

“I suppose you could call her that,” Acxa said. “She became romantically involved with another in our group: Ezor. She died because Keith and I were battling her and Zethrid. They were ready to kill us, and we threw at them a bomb. I didn’t stop to think—I was so angry and ready to just end the battle and—Ezor died because of me.” 

She hung her head. “She wasn’t always the most noble. She loved to prank. Loved to bring pain to others, but I’ve seen the good in her. She adored Narti; if it weren’t for Ezor, we wouldn’t have begun to question Lotor. And now it’s only Zethrid and me left on opposite sides of the battlefield.” 

“Acxa, I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t understand,” Acxa said. “Narti had no reason to be struck down; she deserved to tell her side of the story! But we were brainwashed to just stand there and take orders. We trusted Lotor! Lotor played a dangerous game, hiding behind masks even from us— _from me_. And Ezor…she played with fire, forgot who her friends were, who she _was_ before she let her darker side take over. 

“Zethrid could die after Shiro catches up to her, and I could be the last one remaining. I cannot bear the thought of being the only one alive. They were my only family for so long. You have no idea how intensely the half-Galra are despised. And a Meltran no less. A woman like me has no place in a peaceful universe.”

“Hey, don’t say that!” The determined warmth in Veronica’s tone shook Acxa out of her reverie. “Trust me, I know what you’re feeling. But it’s not too late to change what’s to come. This might sound silly, but want to know a little piece of human wisdom? I once read that the present is called the present because it is a _gift_. Leave the past in the past, and don’t worry about the future. Focus on the now. You can change it. For you and Zethrid.” 

“A gift. Of what for Zethrid and me?” 

Veronica smiled. “Second chance.”

*

Curtis set his shaking hands on the controls, barely hearing Iverson ordering them to take a break.

“Not bad, subordinate,” Geglex said. 

He smiled, staring at a reflection of himself. He could almost see Adam looking back at him. “Think I’ve made it up to Adam?” 

Geglex chuckled. “I ask Zorzo that every time.” 

Zorzo? Frowning, he realized he knew so little of her life. She was the gross alien who had put her feet on his controls and took his spot the first time they met, but ever since then…

“Who’s Zorzo?” 

“A man I fight in the memory of.” 

“So the same as Adam and me.” 

“I could tell you more, but for an exchange.” 

“I’m listening.”

*

Bionic fingers flexed around the trigger of the gun. As much as he was loathe to admit it, his previous arm had been far more of use in battle. While this arm could interface with tech and the Atlas, it had minimal purpose in battle; while that should have brought him ease, no longer haunted by the title of Champion, he felt vulnerable with the battlefield looming ahead.

Keith needed him.

“Shiro!”

He turned around, watching as Acxa gripped the corner end of the hall and pushed, giving herself momentum as she sailed weightless towards him. “Shiro!” 

“Acxa.” He couldn’t help the smile. Trust Acxa to ignore any of the formalities the other crew, including his own former classmates, gave him. 

She held out her hand to anchor herself against the wall. “I’m coming with you. Veronica will be providing ground backup.” 

“Why?” Based on the interrogation of Orvir, he had decided to dispatch all of the MFE pilots: Griffin was to tail them while the others search for the other paladins. 

Acxa motioned towards his gun. “I see you’re preparing for the worse case scenario.” 

Shiro averted his eyes in mild shame. He didn’t wish to kill, and he didn’t know if Acxa considered Zethrid a friend at some point, but if Keith was in danger… “You were there last time. You saw how badly they tormented Pidge.”

“And that’s why you need me there,” Acxa said. “I can get through to Zethrid. I know the reason why she’s gone after Keith. She’s hurting—I was once her ally—her…friend...” Shiro noted how she spoke the word with difficulty. “We were all we had for years, and in her eyes I have betrayed her twice over. You’ll need someone who knows her well, especially while, if you’ll excuse me being blunt, while you’re too emotional over Keith. Your outburst when we first decrypted the distress calls from the paladins was bad enough, but seeing you just barely hang there after Orvir informed us that Zethrid was hunting down Keith? You’re not thinking clearly.” 

Shiro tensed up. “Sorry. It’s just…I had a bad feeling about the team leaving us.”

“All the more reason you need Veronica and me there. Zethrid was a friend, but my head’s not clouded over her.”

Despite the bluntness, almost coldness, of her words, Shiro relaxed and almost laughed. “All right. Suit up.”

*

Allura and Lance were the first to be found, completely by chance, by Ryan and Nadia: wrapped in each other’s embrace, ready to perish on the volcanic earth. Their suits had been discarded, dressed down to their mesh and without their helmets to throw off their pursuers. Oxygen had to be administered immediately, and their battle injuries attended. Neither were conscious when they were rolled in.

Seeing the damages for himself, Shiro’s fear for Keith grew. “Find Hunk and Pidge,” he ordered Kinkade and Leifsdottir. “Griffin, Rizavi, search for Keith. Acxa, you’re with me.” 

With no way for them to track Keith’s signature, Griffin scanned for activity, speeding past dark barren terrain and violent red lakes of lava for any signs of strife. A commotion drew their attention to a precipice, and Griffin drew his ship towards there. Shiro’s hand gripped the back of Griffin’s seat. 

He and Acxa dropped to the ground just as Zethrid whipped around, locking Keith’s arms behind him. His blade lay abandoned a few feet away. Bruises marked his face, and he groaned in pain, squirming in her arms as if trying to find a less painful position for his hurt shoulders and stomach. Shiro froze at the sight. How long had the fight gone before they arrived? 

_Keith…I’m here now_ , he wanted to say, his eyes boring into his love. As if he could hear him, Keith glanced up momentarily, meeting Shiro’s eyes but briefly before looking away, squeezing his eyes in pain. Shiro held his gun at the ready, but Acxa threw him a look, even as Zethrid raised her gun. 

“Zethrid, don’t do this!” Acxa hissed. 

Smirking, Zethrid raised her gun above her head. “I knew you’d come. Now you will feel what I felt.” 

“It’s over. You’re surrounded.” 

Shiro kept his eyes on Keith, eyebrows furrowed at how Keith withered in pain. He didn’t have a helmet on…how long until he passed out? Had he suffered any internal injuries? 

“You think this deters me, Acxa?” Zethrid continued. “I’m already dead. I died along with Ezor.” 

Acxa removed her helmet and regarded Zethrid with a determined compassion. “Zethrid, I know you hurt. I hurt too when Narti died. When Lotor betrayed me—betrayed _us_.”

Zethrid growled. “Stop!” 

“Hear my words,” Acxa continued. “Remember how we first met. We were all so full of hate and rage, half-breeds rejected by the Galra. Lotor used us. He led us down a painful path, a never-ending cycle of destruction and loss. Now’s your chance to break that cycle…with me. Do it in the memory of Narti and Ezor! Please! Leave the rage behind! I know you can be better than this, Zethrid!”

Zethrid’s teeth bared, gnarling at Acxa’s words. Her arm around Keith’s neck tightened, and Shiro watched helplessly as his best friend and lover’s eyes rolled over from the lack of air; he choked, his hands limply swiping at her large arm to let him go. “I’m too far gone! Nothing can bring Ezor back!” 

“Zethrid!” 

“All I have left _is_ revenge!” Zethrid pointed her gun at Shiro. He gasped. Keith’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears, watching, locked in Zethrid’s grip and unable to move. 

Acxa’s eyes widened before quickly recovering. “Wait! Please! Don’t let the rage control you! This won’t bring Ezor back!” 

She eyed Acxa, her eyes going cold, and suddenly there was a mad glint in her eye that Shiro didn’t like. 

“You’re right, Acxa.”

Her gun charged, still pointed at him, when she suddenly pulled back and pointed the gun right against Keith’s head. 

Shiro gasp turned into a guttural yell, Keith’s name caught between a sob and a scream, his heart nearly giving out—Zethrid’s gun was about to fire— 

The sound of a gun echoed through the air, followed by Zethrid’s pained cries. Shiro stood, shaking, his gun still held out. 

Zethrid fell back, letting go of Keith in the process. Before she disappeared beyond the precipice, Keith swept around, using the last of his strength, and Shiro heard a grunt. Keith had managed to grab her in time. 

But he was slipping; they could all see that from here. Moving in unison, Shiro and Acxa rushed over to help. Shiro cast off his right arm, picking Keith up and gently placing him a few feet away while he and Acxa worked to pull Zethrid over the ledge. Veronica, who had been watching the whole ordeal from a safe distance, sniper at the ready, joined them. 

Once Zethrid was back on solid ground, Shiro turned back to check on Keith. He hadn’t moved since he had lifted him off the edge of the precipice, and panicking, he ran the short distance, falling to his knees next to him. 

“Keith?” 

Keith lay motionless. Shiro bent low, his heart dropping when Keith’s breathing came incredibly faint, almost nonexistent. The nagging, painful feeling from before, before Keith had departed, crept back. 

“Keith…no…” 

He pulled off his helmet and cast it aside absentmindedly as he checked for Keith’s pulse, wincing at the cuts and bruises lining Keith’s hand. Injuries marked every part of him. 

_He’s slipping…_

He lifted Keith’s head as he had been instructed, many years ago before taking off for his first mission in outer space, and breathed into him. All panic ebbed into sudden hyper-focus, recalling every step of his retraining. 

_Breathe for me, Keith…_

He continued, his entire focus on keeping Keith alive until Veronica’s hand was on his shoulder and the roar of the Atlas’s engine blared in his ears.

*

Lights had been turned on low in the med bay whenever the medics were not tending to Keith, on Shiro’s request. He needed time to be alone, and just let the tears roll, both of relief and of grief. The darkness helped him to think.

How many near-misses had there been? 

Shiro himself had died— _died!_ And suddenly the memory of being trapped in that endless void, in the Black Lion’s consciousness. It felt like an eternity. He hated thinking back to that era of his— _existence_ was more adapt a term than _life_ at that point. The only comfort came at feeling Keith, however out of reach he was. His suddenly absence had only made the time trapped in the Black Lion more unbearable. 

Shiro shuddered and squeezed Keith’s hand. 

Keith lay before him, the only sign of life being the heart monitor and the respirator that delivered life through an oxygen mask. The bruises had been tended to, but he still looked grey and badly banged up, his eyes closed since the fight on the precipice. 

Close calls. How many battles, on Arus, out in space, near the Galra central command, his death, on Earth, here…

How many times had he worried and fretted over Keith? When they fell on that planet together and Shiro had been injured, when they went on that dangerous mission and Shiro fretted over Keith’s safety, when he wondered and feared over why Keith’s calming presence was suddenly gone from the realm of the Black Lion’s consciousness, replaced by his clone’s, when he later learned of Keith almost dying on Blade missions, almost sacrificing himself on Naxzela, almost getting blown up while trying to disarm all the bombs underneath the Black Lion, almost dying while fighting his clone, watching as Keith and the Black Lion fell from the sky, watching the light leave his eyes as Zethrid’s arm choked him—

Keith’s moan, the softest of sounds inside the oxygen mask, drew Shiro’s attention from his shaken reverie. The corners of his watery eyes wrinkled as his face broke into a sad smile. He brought Keith’s hand to his lips, kissed him once, twice, three times—how many times Keith needed to be assured: he was alive. He was safe. He was loved. 

“You can’t keep doing this to me, Keith,” Shiro said, a soft chastise as his voice broke. “You’re too important to me, Keith.” 

He kissed his hand again, and he thought he saw Keith’s lips quirk: a smile? About to cry? If he could gather Keith up in his arms and cradle him until all his wounds had healed, he would. 

“I’ll make certain we all get out of this alive, Keith. I promise you. Whatever it takes.”

*

Pidge and Hunk were still holding hands as Acxa and Veronica gave them a full report of the status of their fellow paladins, as well as Zethrid.

“Allura and Lance are responsive and recovering,” Acxa said after Veronica detailed to them who the culprit had been. 

“They’ve recovered surprisingly fast!” Veronica commented brightly, and Acxa flushed, remembering the sight she beheld when she walked in on them earlier today. 

“And Keith?” Hunk asked hopefully. 

“Almost died.” 

_“Almost?”_ Pidge gasped and dissolved into a fit of coughs. Hunk rubbed her back. 

“He was in bad shape after his fight with Zethrid,” Acxa said. “He has yet to wake up but there is no reason to assume he won’t make a full recovery.” 

“Oh, good!” Hunk said and both he and Pidge visibly relaxed. They squeezed hands, and studying them, Acxa couldn’t help stealing a look at Veronica’s. What was it with humans and holding hands? Allura and Lance, Hunk and Pidge, Keith and Shiro…

“Thank you,” Acxa told Veronica later on after they left. She waited until they entered a hallway that was deserted of anyone before she could speak. “For everything. Watching our back in case things spiraled.”

“Aw, it’s no trouble!” Veronica smiled warmly and reached for her hand. Acxa froze but didn’t pull back. 

It wasn’t bad at all, the feel of warm, soft flesh wrapped around hers. But perhaps more of significance was the sense of calm and reassurance that settled over her. Perhaps there was a profound magic behind trivial body contact. 

Acxa offered up a small smile in return. “I have one more person to visit, but I must do this one alone.”

*

Zethrid sat with her head bowed. She had already warned Orvir not to speak a word or she would plunder him into a bloody pulp. She did not care how the crew had seen through his ruse; all she knew was that right now, Shiro and Keith were together, while she and Ezor were apart.

She picked up the sound of footsteps and glanced up in time to see Acxa. Getting to her feet, she approached the prison door. 

"You waste your time, Acxa." 

"I know you're angry,” Acxa began, “but I refuse to give up on you. You would be useful in the fight against Honerva." 

Zethrid glanced above Acxa’s shoulder, and suddenly a form took shape. Faintly, ghostly, and appearing as she did many times during the nights which have haunted her before: Ezor stood and watched Zethrid, her large, bright blue eyes searching hers, almost as if begging. A moment later and another form appeared beside Ezor. Zethrid was almost surprised Acxa didn’t flinch at Narti’s hiss, its clarity and vibrancy like anything else around around her. 

_I must be losing it._

“I want you to join me, Zethrid,” Acxa added, not sensing the two ghosts behind her. 

Zethrid scowled as she thought back over the years: how they had met, long before Lotor had tracked them down, fed them lies, made them feel like a family. The days before bloodlust consumed them, back when they scavenged not for fleets to control but morsels of food, the days when they fought Galra off their backs for another day to live, fought for the basic right to just _exist_. 

Finally, she met Acxa’s steady gaze. 

_Okay, I will help_ , she thought, _but how can anyone trust us after all I’ve done?_


End file.
